Insomniac
by JosieBaker
Summary: Maureen can't sleep, and ends up hunting down Joanne. BDSM.


I couldn't sleep. Blindly, I felt my way out of bed, undressing quickly, fumbling out of my pyjamas in the half-dark. I found my belt, draped over the arm of my chair, and knotted it quickly into a thong, pulling it tight between my buttocks, the knot pressed hard against my g-spot. I knew she liked it when I wore belts – and I'd amassed quite a collection over the years. This one was my favourite – black and elasticated, with a small bronze buckle which I fastened on the left side of my waist. I chose a matching black bra – a low-cut push-up, maximising the visual impact of my pert boobs. One of my constant laments was that I was an unimpressive 34B, but I figured that as long as they satisfied her, I had nothing to complain about.

I threaded another belt (this one old brown leather) and some cord through my thong. Throwing a gauzy thigh-length shirt over my skimpy attire, I climbed out the window onto the fire escape. My eyes had acclimatised to the dark by now, but there was no need – the street outside was illuminated by a globe of orange light, softly radiating from the streetlamp by my apartment.

Two flights down, and I was looking in through her bedroom window. I could see her silhouette, thrown into stark outline against the harsh light of her laptop screen. She was facing away from the window and a shiver of anticipation ran down my spine as I saw that her hair was wet, and she was clad only in a towel, wrapped tightly under her arms.

I moved quietly along the metal ladder to the other window. This was kept well-oiled, but I still breathed a sigh of relief as I slid, gracelessly but silently, onto the rug on her sitting room floor. I crept like a cat across the room and into her boudoir. She was still turned to the screen, and I held my breath as I crossed the tiny space in three strides.

I slid one hand over her mouth, pressing my nose into her neck. She started, but I held her firmly to the chair, making sure she couldn't move.

"Guess who?" I whispered.

She made a muffled sound into my palm. I reached around behind me and picked up the knife I knew she kept on her bedside table. Holding the blunt side of the blade to her throat, I pulled her roughly from the chair, kicking it back against the desk as I did so.

"Shh, keep perfectly still now or I might hurt you." My voice was sickly sweet as I took the knife between my teeth and used the cord to bind her wrists and ankles.

She was trembling, and still out of her line of sight I pulled her towel away aggressively. Slipping out of my shirt, I took the leather strap in hand and circled her naked body, eyeing it appreciatively. Her impressive breasts heaved as she breathed fast, her rounded butt still glowing from the shower. She looked at me for the first time, her dark eyes soft but her shoulders thrown back.

"Well well, we can't have that," I purred. "Submissive by name, submissive by nature, wasn't it? Now bend over."

She looked me in the eye, daring me to strike. I came behind her and carefully swept the ringlets away from her neck. Involuntarily she leaned into my touch, exposing her soft mocha-brown shoulder. I brushed it with my lips, once, twice, and she shivered. Suddenly I bit down, hard, and a gasp escaped her full lips.

"Bend over," I demanded.

She complied, and I stroked her buttocks with the belt. The sight of her, vulnerable and naked with her hair hanging in strands over her eyes never failed to thrill me. I lingered for a second, before raising the leather over my head and bringing it down across her with a crack. She cried out in pleasure, and I repeated the action again. On the third strike, she called out my name.

"God, Mo!"

"Say it again," I ordered. "Say my name."

"Maureen, my Maureen, oh God I love you!"

I pulled her upright and spun her to face me. Dropping the belt, I pulled her face to mine and crushed her lips passionately. She responded, biting down on my bottom lip as I pushed my tongue against her teeth.

"Let me get the knife," I mumbled, my mouth still pressed against hers. I reached for the knife and pulled away, standing behind her as I said "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," she replied breathlessly, as I cut her bonds with two sharp slashes. At once she turned to face me, running her hands through my black hair. I lifted her onto the desk and she wrapped her legs tightly around mine, unfastening my bra expertly behind my back. I unbuckled my thong and let it drop to the floor as I lowered my lips to her neck, savouring the smell of her damp hair. I kissed the length of her neck before grazing her collar bone with my teeth and sucking hard. She moaned with pleasure, and I grabbed her buttocks and pulled her closer, bringing us into contact. I thrust against her, hitting her spot, and she threw her head back and mewed with pleasure. Flicking my tongue over her aroused nipples as she began to massage my breasts, we thrust against one another faster and faster.

"Bed?" she croaked.

"Uh huh," I agreed desperately.

Lifting her again to maintain the contact, I climbed onto her bed. I reached for the lube, coating my fingers as I kissed her stomach.

"Relax baby," I said, inserting the tip of my middle finger into her clit. She moaned something filthy as I slowly moved my finger in and out, licking her spot to stimulate her. Her hands scrabbled through my hair for purchase as I increased the speed, inserting my index finger as well and scissoring the two on the way out. She arched her back and thrust against me, forcing my fingers deeper inside her. I nipped her with my  
teeth and she cried out.

"Mo don't stop! I'm nearly –"

I redoubled my efforts, the arch of her back reaching a maximum before she collapsed, panting on the bed. I withdrew my fingers and crossed the room to wash at her nightstand. I glanced back at her, spread out on the bed with her eyes half shut and her dark curls nearly dry, cheeks flushed and looking like an angel despite the red weals across her caramel-coloured buttocks.

I climbed back onto the bed beside her with a tube of arnica.

"What are you?" I asked her softly.

"Your little Ivy-League slut," she said, taking her bottom lip between her white teeth.

"That's right. You're my shameless little slut."

She turned over and I began massaging her with the arnica. She winced, but I kissed her spine gently as I worked, humming softly to her. When I saw that she was asleep I pulled the covers over her and gathered up my things, powering off the laptop and sliding the window carefully shut behind me.


End file.
